A Second Chance at Life
You know how sometimes people talk about those pivotal moments that change their lives forever? I think I recently had one of those moments...
March 20. I was driving to work. It was raining gently and the roads were wet, but I felt safe. I'd driven to Owatonna hundreds of times from the Twin Cities, and in much worse road conditions on more than one occasion as well. Because I'm a cautious person, which translates to how I drive as well, I had left plenty of room between my solid Buick and the pick up truck in front of me. I was listening to Code Switch, one of my new favorite podcasts. I had just finished eating the most nutritious on-the-road breakfast: a cherry PopTart (once in a blue moon, I'll splurge - oops!).
Not quite halfway into my drive, I approached an overpass. As soon as the truck in front of me hit the suddenly frozen overpass, the driver lost control of her truck and began swerving all over the highway, eventually hitting the median and coming to a stop. I noticed this right away and began pumping my brakes...but traveling 70 MPH on the interstate and suddenly hitting a patch of ice, I was not slowing down or stopping at all. I also lost control of my car and knew I was going to crash. I saw and felt my car turning towards the median. I thought to myself in a split second, "I am about to die. I don't want to watch this." I slammed my eyes shut, screamed, and then everything froze.
There was a deafening crunch followed by an equally deafening silence. I opened my eyes and everything was blurry. I could see smoke in my car, the deflated airbag in my lap, the shattered windshield. I smelled burnt skin but couldn't figure out where on my body I was burned. Everything on my body hurt but I felt numb. I was terrified that I was seriously injured and I knew if I had hurt my neck or back I should just stay still. I noticed my glasses were not on my face, nor were they anywhere within my (admittedly terrible) field of vision. My hands were shaking; my body itself was quivering. I saw my hot pink phone case down by my feet and slowly scooted it forward so I could gently lean down to grab it. I called my mom and with a weak and panicked voice told her I had gotten in a car accident, I was about 40 minutes away, and I needed her to bring me a pair of glasses because mine had disappeared. Next, I called my secretary at work to tell her I wouldn't be coming in.
I didn't know what else to do...so I snapped a couple of pictures of the inside of my car.
The entire windshield was shattered. Rain was dripping inside my car from the holes in the glass. My console was falling apart. The side mirror on the passenger side had smashed into the window and created another hole there for cold air and rain to enter my car. I looked next to me where my backpack and lunchbox had been sitting, and they were on the floor in front of the passenger's seat, covered in tiny bits of glass. I noticed my sweater itself was sparkling with glass dust and picked a few bigger pieces of glass off my chest. I reached up to my left collarbone, which I noticed was stinging...ah yes, the source of the burnt skin scent. The airbag had hit my necklace and burned it to my skin. I breathed as I took mental stock of my entire body and tried to locate the sources of my pain: my chest, my neck, my hips and abdomen, my shins (especially the left one) and the top of my left foot.
A young man in his 30s appeared in the hole of my passenger window. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asked me. "I think I'm okay, I'm just really scared!" I cried. He opened the back door and looked at me. "I see no blood. I just called the police and they are coming to help you." I replied, "Thank you! I can't find my glasses! I can't see!" He searched around my backseat (I'm sorry, strange man, that it was so messy...) and reached underneath one of my blue IKEA bags. "Are these your glasses?" I was so relieved...it didn't register until later that my glasses had been flung from my face and landed underneath a bag in the backseat.
Shortly after, the police arrived, and I was quickly assessed and let out of my car. The police officer - an extremely kind and gentle young man - took my license and insurance information, and escorted me to the ambulance to be evaluated further. While inside, I was checked for signs of a concussion, neck or spinal injury, and sources of potential bleeding. It was determined that I was lucky to not have hit my head or to have sustained any significant injuries that would have led to my transport to the hospital. By the time I was let out of the ambulance and into the police car, my beloved car had already been taken away before I could see the damage. The other driver of the pick up truck - a 17-year-old girl on the way to school - was fine and was able to leave the scene during that time as well. I was taken to a nearby McDonald's where my parents were going to come pick me up.
I sat in a booth of that McDonald's silently weeping. I was in pain everywhere. I was terrified. I couldn't believe I was alive and that I wasn't bleeding anywhere. I texted a couple of my best friends to tell them what had happened. One of them called me immediately and talked with me as I sat crying in McDonald's next to a table of geriatric couples enjoying their McCafe lattes and breakfast sandwiches. In about 20 minutes, my parents showed up with a jacket, another pair of glasses, and gentle but comforting hugs.
I started bruising from the seatbelt and down my leg almost immediately and after being home for about an hour or so, I decided I needed to go to the hospital to be looked at. I was also experiencing alarming neck weakness and pain in my chest, back, and leg. I spent 8 hours in the ER, where I was given ice for my "achy parts" (no joke, the CNA said that to me as he gave me two ice packs...), had chest and leg X-rays, and an MRI of my neck (my first ever MRI - hated it). I was told that I had no structural issues but to ice my deep bruises and significantly strained muscles for 24 hours and switch to heat afterwards. I was also directed to set up physical therapy and/or chiropractic care for my neck, back, and leg.
A few days later, I went to gather the personal items out of my car with my mom. Since I had only seen what the inside of my car looked like the day of the accident, I was absolutely shocked to see my car completely banged up. It was completely sobering. I knew I had had a brush with death but seeing how damaged my car was made me so grateful to be alive.
The past two weeks have been utterly surreal. I have experienced deep pain from head to toe, but I hesitate to complain about it because the pain is better than the alternative. My pain is largely from my seat belt...which saved my life. I'll take the deep bruises and aches. My neck weakness and pain is partially from my airbag...which saved my life. I'll take the weakness and strain.
It's interesting, because for about a month before my accident, I had been really questioning the value of my life. I had grown very tired of fighting my mental illness every day...tired of the way it has affected my daily life...tired of pretending to be fine when I still struggle on some days. I had been thinking about how much I wished I could just stop...being...for a little while.
Now that I have had a traumatic, near-death experience, I am thinking about life so differently. The family and friends who have reached out to support me, check in on me, to tell me how grateful they are that I'm alive...I see now that I matter to people in my life. I am grateful to have a second chance at life. I realize that I have way too much life ahead of me to wish it away. I have a sense of peace deep inside that I haven't felt in a long, long time. The physical pain will fade with time and physical therapy. The trauma of the accident and my mental health will improve with time and cognitive therapy. But my life is sacred and I am up for the fight against all my internal and external pain.
I matter. I will fight. I will live with a renewed sense of gratitude. I will not shy away from this trauma, but continue to work through it and never let myself forget how lucky I am to have been spared.